I suppose that if you have broken a leg they would have no choice but to admit you to hospital immediately. When breaking your arm or your shoulder though, going home with the injury is a more likely option, so on the Monday evening after breaking my shoulder I returned home late (at 23:15 - 11:15 PM if you insist) and managed as far as possible to sleep with it.
After discovering that the hospital was on a convenient bus route, the following morning we returned by bus rather than taxi for an appointment at 09:30.
Pretty much on time the interview started with a lady who was at once highly personable and highly knowledgeable (and extremely reassuring). A diagram was already available on the wall, but she improvised a sketch with what was due to happen as she went along.
I fancy myself as being knowledgeable myself on a whole range of issues, but exact details of the human anatomy do not fit into that category, so I tried to learn from her explanation.
The human right shoulder has two cone shaped objects at the top (I have since learned that in English these are called tubercles, I have already forgotten the German!). Apparently one of these was broken. It was a simple fracture (thankfully). The operation would require removing some pieces that had fallen into a cavity beneath (I think ....), fitting a lightweight metal plate over the tubercle, fitting in some screws and attaching the appropriate nerves and muscles to them.
It would be a simple enough task for an expert surgeon, the whole operation would last some two hours, I could expect to stay in hospital for six days, and after that there would be a recuperation and therapy period lasting 3-4 months (shoulders being complex objects upon which a whole load of other anatomical features depend).
Suitably impressed we went home, returned upon the Wednesday to collect all the information that we needed for the hospital stay (what to bring usw). My wife then had to sign the appropriate document for me (interesting situation - her ability to read German is not word perfect, while I was not capable of using a pen!).
You then were expected to arrive at the hospital at 07:30 the following morning (Thursday). As the operation would not be expected to take place until approximately 11:00 this seemed a bit early, but they have their methods and procedures and like to stick to them.
One thing that I learned the first time I was in hospital for any period of time (see 2008) was to behave as if you're in jail (not that I have ever been in jail NB). Do what you're told, when you're told and how you're told. Misbehave and you lose remission.
My first three hours were spent waiting for the operation with my wife in attendance, and the only other person in the ward (usually equipped for 3 people) was a very quiet guy who was due to be released, and the only time he ever seemed to speak was when he needed to make or receive a business call on his mobile 'phone (note - when I was in hospital for the heart operation in 2008, mobile 'phones were not allowed. Either times have changed or the casualty departments and the heart attack wards work on different principles).
On cue at 11:00 someone arrived to wheel the bed with me on it to the operating theatre. Whispered goodbye to my wife before they pushed me to the point of no return, and exited through a set of automatic closing doors into the hallowed area.
They emptied me off the bed gently onto a solid green platform / table (difficult to describe it really) and was greeted by a young man who wanted to know whether I preferred German or English (German, this isn't Manchester or Humberside), asked if I were alright (silly question, really, taking into account my broken shoulder), smiled when I answered "yes" ....
I had one concern before this operation - if you have some sort of dreadful nightmare, how might it impact proceedings? During 2 of the 3 operations in 2008 I had had some awful dreams, which I can still remember to this day.
This time round though - nothing but three hours of peaceful sleep. I woke up and found another very pleasant lady staring into my eyes (the German medical system seems to have loads of these very pleasant ladies). Once again I was asked (in German) whether I was OK, again I answered "yes" (in German), and they then proceeded to wheel me back to the ward.
My wife reappeared from nowhere, and I spent a quiet remarkably pain-free afternoon learning the in-house rituals and being fed. The toilet and bathroom being directly opposite and my legs being in perfect shape, any need to use them I would happily have made unassisted - but as the nursing staff and my wife wouldn't hear of it, assistance was either requested or supplied without question.
The only real problem was lying down and where to put your arm. It was more comfortable sitting up, and even walking. They also fitted you out with a sling, which, although helpful in a way (and necessary for recovery), could also be a confounded nuisance. At night you had to improvise some way of lying on your back without the sling getting in the way, and without falling over on to the side where the operation was.
Painkillers appeared to work. Sleeping drafts did not. As a chronic insomniac, this was the most difficult activity involved. The night nurses were always very friendly and helpful, but the nights were long.
And when the quiet patient left to be replaced by an old guy who had broken (quite badly) his arm in two places and was in obvious pain .... All night .... And was constantly telling everyone he wanted to go home (for these complaints he lost remission!).
Every morning the team of doctors came round, checked the results of their work, congratulated themselves that progress was as expected, uttered surprise that a British national could actually speak German (they got French and Dutch thrown at them as well - I need to show off occasionally, see the previous piece), and gave me an A+ for conduct.
After a couple of days you started to be able to feed yourself, and use the toilet unaided (carefully and always depending upon your left hand to help you sit down and stand up). Which was as well as my wife was back at work for three mornings of my stay. The food was not at all bad, the nursing staff very helpful and friendly, and when you could actually work out how to turn the page of a book with the same hand with which you are holding it, reading helped passed the time.
On my final two days on the ward, I had a second neighbour in the ward who had fallen and broken his thigh bone in two places (seeing the other patients in that place reminded me how fortunate I had been to get such a simple break). He helped me also translate some of the pure Hessisch my elderly companion tended to use.
You get a chance to move round the whole area also - a coffee and reading lounge was available for example.
Not a bad experience all told, given the circumstances. Not that I wasn't keen to go home, which they allowed me to do a day early (extra remission - obviously behaving yourself works!).
This was to lead to the post-surgical procedures - a long process (I am still actually involved with these) - and these will be detailed in Part 3.
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